


My dreams don't know fear

by Exces_KaboomBOOM



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Drag Queens, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Multi, Newt's a teacher Herms' also a teacher but also a drag queen, Newt's trans because yolo, Nothing Sexual tho, Pentecost's Drag Race is a thing also, lap dance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-04 20:09:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15154727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exces_KaboomBOOM/pseuds/Exces_KaboomBOOM
Summary: Newt is at the bar, mourning his career tragical failing. He meets a stupidly hot man, then a beautiful drag queen on stage. They’re the same person, and Newt absolutely falls in love at first sight(s).Including; drag queen!Hermann, Mako and Raleigh, the Shatterdome as a bar, Pentecost's Drag Race and a sexy lap dance on the songDown in Mexico.





	My dreams don't know fear

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the story, after the art haha! I won't post them both together because I kind of don't want my art followers to know too much about my fanfictions lmao 
> 
> English isn't my first language but I'm really working on perfecting it, and I hope you'll be able to enjoy this story even though I'm sure it's still full of grammatical mistakes and twisted sentences haha! Please enjoy. <3

_I’ve been a dirty bastard_

_But I will clean my act up_

 

Work is a bitch. Teamworking is a bitch. His lab partner is a bitch. Life is a bitch. His only comfort right now is liquid and in a beer glass.

 

The bar is dimly lighted in rich, hot pink lights, balanced with dark corners where lovers are known to be found dancing and kissing. Newt is alone but he is happy about it; he can barely tolerate himself, so he doesn’t have the strength or desire to bear another one’s presence.

 

This past week has been hellish in all kind of ways; his science experiments were proven wrong most of the time, his grad students had drained his life force so hard he was left feeling mummified, and he recently got the news that his teaching contract wouldn’t be renewed next semester. Which means that he is basically jobless.

 

In all honesty, Newt is not really afraid about that last fact, because he is brilliant and resourceful and a rockstar in his field of research — but it is annoying and kind of insulting. Fuck this college and its administration, they are all bitches.

 

The Shatterdome is a cool bar to hang out and relax after work, and kind of the only place where Newt is sure he won’t catch one of his student. No minor is allowed in here, and it’s too gay for them anyway. A drag queens bar brings a special kind of audience, and Newt is fully aware of his own weirdness. He is all about it, now that he is an adult with a decent paycheck. He is a nineties’ kid, his youth crush was Godzilla and he played in multiple punk rock bands: he is never going to be a cool kid, or a basic bitch. He is a badass bitch; so fuck them all, in that regard.

 

The barman, Tendo, is kind of his best friend and kind of a dick; they met ions ago at a frat party and sticked together since like the losers they were. It felt natural to follow him when he moved into town to start his own business. Plus, he offers him infinite free drinks. Newt’s only comfort, really.

 

“If you need a job to pay your rent for a couple of months, we dearly need a new cleaning person.”

 

Newt snorts, not considering the offer even though it touches him.

 

“What happened to the last one?” He acquires instead.

 

“Sasha quited after charming one of our local queens, Aleksis. I heard they were planning on getting married abroad.”

 

“Well… _Isn't that romantic_?” Newt chuckles when he is actually freaking jealous. Love is a bitch, fuck love.

 

“Fortunately a new queen arrived soon after, so the customers didn’t feel left out.” Tendo is mixing different liquids in an elaborate way while eating a bagel. The bar is closed, they still have half an hour before looking decent.

 

He slides the finished cocktail under Newt’s nose. “Try this new baby.”

 

Not one to refuse a free drink, Newt chugs it in one go. It is bitter, fruity, and strong as hell. “Did you serve me flavored gasoline?”

 

“Nah, it's the new queen’s favorite. She calls it a _Math Problem_.”

 

“What a lame name!”

 

“I don't know… But it got people talking. It's our best-seller since her arrival. It’s kinda hard to make, with Italian liquor, citrus extract and curacao; still, customers dig it. Surprisingly, they also like the new queen.”

 

“ _Surprisingly?_ ” Newt’s interest is piqued. He never heard Tendo be skeptical about one of their local queens before.

 

“I’ll let you make an opinion for yourself. She’s like no others; rumor has it she even was approached to participate in last season of Pentecost’s Drag Race.”

 

“You gotta be shitting me, dude! Drop the name! I gotta check her Instagram!”

 

“Why spoil the surprise?”

 

“Man, come on! You know I love Pentecost’s show!”

 

“ _Nope_. Wait until you see her perform tonight. Then you can choose if you like her or not.”

 

Newt is pouting only for the effect. He is not really mad at his friend, and he likes the rushy feeling of being surprised. Still, he gotta keep his brat façade and replies:

 

“I’m gonna smoke a cig and light your car on fire.”

 

“Oh, please do. I’ll hire a hitman to kick your balls with the insurance money.”

 

Newt is out in a flash and one crazy big smile on his face. He loves his asshole of a friend. He doesn’t have a lot of people in his life, so really he is grateful to at least have an amazing dickhead as his bestie for life.

 

He goes out the back door to not meet any customer’s privy eyes — everybody knows he is a boss’ favorite and some peers already tried to befriend him in order to enter the bar without paying. The staff gotta eat! The queens gotta live! No cheap scum is allowed between those walls, it’s their one major rule. You won’t tip a performer? Go back to your house or find the nearest ATM and become a more decent customer.

 

Thinking about it, Newt checks his wallet to be sure he has enough bills for the night. Three queens are programmed tonight; Raleigh — _Tiddies Danger_ , Mako — _Mori Toe_ , and the new queen, Miss mystery mystery _mystery_.

 

“Excuse me, do you have a lighter I could borrow?”

 

Newt turns to the voice only to be meeting big black eyes. _God, that’s an oddly pretty face_ , he finds himself thinking. He hands his matches’ box to the stranger without a word, forgetting to blink for several seconds. He is sort of mesmerized. There is something about that person that is simply… _Enthralling._ An unknown he wants to learn everything about.

 

“Thank you,” replies the person once they light up their own cigarette.

 

Newt notices a cane at their side, and a terrible sense of style in their clothing. They must be the same age, yet the other looks like an old professor pulled out of an Indiana Jones’ movie.

 

“I’m Newt,” he simply says into the wind, unable to find anything else to begin a conversation with. “I’m — I’m Tendo’s dude. I mean, I’m his _friend_ , not that I’m _not_ into dudes, I’m into whatever, man — And I’m not assuming you’re a _man_ , dude, it’s just a saying — ”

 

“I’m Hermann Gottlieb,” the other replies, looking severe but interested — a strange yet attractive combinaison on their features. “I’ve heard about you, from Miss Mori and Raleigh. You can use masculine pronouns when referring to me.”

 

“Oh, cool, same. But Miss Mori — do you mean _Mako?_ ”

 

“Ah — Yes. I’m used to referring her that way, as we have history. I have known her since she was but nine years old. I’ve introduced her to the drag queen scene, years ago.”

 

 _“You’re Mako’s drag mom?”_ Newt’s shocked yells resonate in the whole back alley, frightening pigeons and bats in the rising of the night. He is fanboying despite his desire to make a good first impression; Mako is his forever favorite. He has been watching over her career with the greatest care, and learning some new details about her history is making him gag his eyes out.

 

“I think that’s a fair assomption, yes.” Hermann replies quietly, staying very cool and composed, as if nothing could ever make him feel too much. Newt drinks in his straight traits, learning each new micro expressions crossing his face.

 

It’s stronger than himself, but Newt gotta do it; he gotta find a way to crawl under that man’s skin.

 

“Why didn’t I hear about you before, though? Got into some troubles with her?”

 

Hermann looks immediately more impenetrable. He doesn’t seem to like getting sentimental, and really that’s a shame, but Newt is not here to play, he is in for the best score.

 

“You’re her father or something?” Newt is pushing on the touchy subject, ignoring all the red warnings lights going off behind his eyes. He is going to get his face pushed by the end of the evening, he is feeling it.

 

(For once, he would _actually_ deserve it.)

 

“Aren’t you an indiscreet prick! Why do you care?” Hermann spits out, fury written on his face like a long lost lover.

 

He manages to look at Newt as if he was the stupidest being he has ever laid eyes upon. That only works at making Newt more stubborn by the second; once he’s bitten, he’s sinking his teeth deep enough to leave a _pretty_ strong impression. Good or bad, it doesn’t really matter.

 

“ _I care_ because I’ve known Mako for some time now, and I never heard about any English tight-ass from her past! If you’re coming back into her life as a — a _failed_ paternal figure, trying to make her feel guilty, I will — I will fight you, bro!”

 

“I’d like to see you try, you small caveman!”

 

“I’m not small, you piece of shit! And _you’re_ the prick!”

 

“Oh, very mature, your debate skills are as high as you are!”

 

“Oy fuck you, man!”

 

They’re basically fist fighting with words, the entire neighbourhood probably aware of their misunderstanding.

 

Raleigh is coming out the back door of the Shatterdome, seemingly worried, running to them:

 

“What the hell is going on? Newt, did you do something to offend Doctor Gottlieb?”

 

“Doctor?” Newt screams, at the same time as Hermann’s replying: “Yes he did!”

 

“Screw you, I didn’t do shit!” Newt replies, at the exact moment Hermann is yelling back to him: “Yes, _Doctor!_ You stupid ape!”

 

Raleigh is now standing physically between them to try and stop their batter. The two men shamefully shut up, but they are still exchanging angry looks. To the hell with Raleigh, Newt would pay good money to spend his night screaming to this Doctor Douchebag’s face.

 

It makes him feel alive and on fire.

 

“Leave it be,” Hermann finally says, “I have to get prepared anyway. As should _you_.”

 

Raleigh doesn’t seem convinced, but he nods and goes back inside the bar by Hermann’s side. Newton watches them go, his heart furiously beating against his ribcage; he is smiling like the devil, lightheaded from excitement. He runs his fingertips over his pulse, feeling its crazed beat dancing all over his body.

 

He is already tasting victory at the tip of his tongue. That’s gonna be one hell of a night.

 

*********

 

Hermann is known for many things. He also tends to keep a lot of secrets, regarding his personal life most particularly — an old habit learnt from strict parenting, a huge lack of social skills and years of teaching amongst deadly curious colleagues.

 

For example, not a soul from his work or family knows about his drag career. Cherry Pi is not a name nor a face they know, and even if they did, they would not have access to the informations needed to connect them both.

 

He always recalled doing drag before coming out; he often took his big sister’s clothes and tried them on, on the weekends. He felt at ease in them, liberated, with no limits to his dreams. Only mathematics made him feel the same way; unfortunately, one path was encouraged and celebrated, the other was ridiculed and shameful.

 

Adulthood allowed it to quietly re-immersed himself in his beloved passion; he officially started doing shows at twenty-one years old, and has been making his way in the spotlights for ten years now.

 

Cherry Pi is not much himself as she is someone he loves; he mostly knows emotions and relationships through her glance. That is his way of living, and it has been working well for him.

 

In that sense, Hermann has never been known to be one to yell at a stranger, even less about an unrequited question. He still doesn’t understand what overtook him to react that way — so quickly, so violently — to Newt’s inquiries.

 

Was it disappointment at being attracted to a seemingly stupid man? Was it pride at being questioned, and judged as a potentially failing parental figure? Or was it… a new side of himself that he hasn’t been able to meet yet?

 

He buries his tormenting worries in the fondation he is rapidly and unkindly putting on his cheekbones. He is doing his makeup like a man ready to enter a battlefield. He is not angry anymore — but he sure is still fired up. Ready to continue his arguments on the cue.

 

Mako is already on stage, opening the show as per usual; Hermann had asked about this place many times before really thinking about becoming one of their established queens. He has wanted to come work back closer to Mako, and his job doesn’t allow him anymore on the road kind of shows since he has signed for a two years teaching contract at the local science faculty.

 

He had his doubts, but felt at home on his first night.

 

Everything was going so swell, right until that cunt of a man appeared out of _nowhere_ —

 

Who could be friend with this guy? Tendo should have more reliable friends. Hermann would never be friend with such a vulgar character.

 

His wig falls over his shoulders right in the middle of his back; he is still shirtless in the work room, alone since Raleigh went to watch Mako performs until his own time is up.

 

Should Cherry Pi go with her red kimono or her transparent cocktail dress?

 

The image of Newt screaming at his face while looking at his lips makes him wonder. Hermann ought to teach that man a lesson; that if you infuriate a queen, she should make you regret everything you ever did or said to her.

 

Cherry Pi would have shut up Newt in a second. And she is going to make him eat his eyes out of regret, and desire.

 

*********

 

Mako knows how to own a stage like no other queens. She dances as she was walking on air, her wig always on point, her moves fluid as water. She is so perfectionist that not one single move is improvised; but only looking at her could fool you into thinking she was simply going with the flow, as natural it seems to be for her to perform.

 

Newt has already emptied half his wallet on her. Her performance on Britney’s _One More Time_ is his lifetime favorite. He wants her to dance that exact same shit on his grave.

 

Raleigh is announced next so Newt heads back to the bar, checking on Tendo if he needs any extra help with the bartending. The evening is quiet, so his friend offers him a beer instead and takes the time to share a break with him.

 

“I see you’re still enjoying Mako’s show, even though you know it by heart.”

 

“Don't blame me, bro, the kid’s brilliant! She’s the one keeping your shithole of a place open.”

 

“First of all, go fuck yourself. Two, my bar is a palace. Three, go _fuck yourself._ ”

 

“Love you too, man,” Newt chuckles around his drink. “I think I made a terrible first impression on your new queen, by the way.”

 

“ _Already?_ God, you’re the biggest disaster maker I know.” Tendo takes two long sips of his lemonade, then continues on: “Please tell me she’s still coming on stage.”

 

“I didn’t fright her off, man, come on! I didn’t even know it was her!”

 

Tendo visibly relaxes. “Ah. I see. You met her out of drag. You met _Hermann._

 

“Yeah. He called me an indiscreet prick!”

 

“Which absolutely applies to you.”

 

“ _Yes_ , exactly! And the guy barely knows me! That was crazy, we yelled at each other, ready to go at each other’s throat — you knew he was Mori’s mom?”

 

“Of course,” Tendo laughs. Two customers call him for drinks, so he leaves on that note, laughing a little louder to make his point. Newt flips him off and walks away.

 

Tiddies Danger is on stage death dropping in loops over Nicki Minaj’s _Spaceships_ , her wig already off her head, bra out and the audience screaming their adoration at her. Damn it, she sure knows how to light up the bar: bills are raining on her ass and she is smiling a goofy smile. She knows how to dance, for a white guy.

 

Newt spots Mako near the stage, half out of drag, mindlessly watching Raleigh at work. She looks composed but she is clearly having a lot of fun, which means she is satisfied with her own performance, which means she is in a good mood. Newt makes a bee line to her, and shouts over the music:

 

“Mako! Please dance at my funeral!”

 

She laughs, used to his weird requests, and replies as per usual:

 

“For how much?”

 

“I don’t care, I’d be dead!”

 

She smiles as she gestures for him to sit down by her side. It’s her non-official but well-known assigned table. You gotta be invited to take place next to her.

 

Titties jumps off stage and flips on her feet like a freaking cat. Everyone is cheering her, the music fading to her next song, a more quiet but sexier piece — _Kiss_ by Prince.  

 

“Eh,” Newt doesn’t know how to properly address the subject, so he does what he knows best, which is being a blunt idiot, “what’s up with your drag mom? I met her. She’s kind of… frigid, right?”

 

Mako laughs so vividly that they seem both surprised by her reaction. Newt surely _never_ saw her mock something with so much soul, and herself is not accustomed to being that expressive in a public setting.

 

“I’m sorry, Newton, but surely we are not talking about the same Cherry Pi.”

 

Newt blushes, sweating everywhere from embarrassment, excitement and crude want.

 

“Hermann… Is Cherry Pi?”

 

“Ah, you met _Doctor Gottlieb._ ”

 

“Why does everyone say it that way! They’re the same person for fuck’s sake!”

 

“Well… Yes, obviously, but,” Mako hesitates, a warm smile still hanging at her lips, “normally nobody really meets Hermann if they know of Cherry Pi. He likes to keep his private life — _private._ ”

 

“Yeah, he made that point super clear. Got real defensive when I asked him why he knew you since you were a kid.”

 

She turns completely to Newton, forgetting Raleigh riding the floor, forgetting the yelling and the music, leaning into his ear to tell him something important. For once, Newt doesn’t try to be the smart guy and listens carefully.

 

“Hermann knew my adopted father and was one of my private tutors in my teen years. He introduced me to drag when my dad refused to do it himself. He’s not used to be liked. He’s not used to be wanted. So he rarely ever talks to people.”

 

Newt feels special, as he senses that is what Mako was aiming at. She continues, less serious than sincere:

 

“Please give him a chance. He is, by all means, as gorgeous as is Cherry Pi.”

 

He numbly agrees but he feels like he is half asleep. He doesn’t really know what to do with that new lot of informations.

 

Maybe Tendo was right. He should wait to meet the queen herself. Maybe he needs to think of a way to apologize, before ruining his only shot with a gorgeous, complex creature.

 

*********

 

Lips red as the insides of a velvet coffin, her heels infinitely too high, hips generously padded, breasts free and revealed, Cherry Pi steps on her stage, ready for a massacre.

 

People call her name. She sends them kisses, obscenely bending on her raffinate cane. Everything shall be red tonight; her dress, her face, her hair, her accessories, her mood. She is not here to play, she only got one thing on her mind.

 

Cherry Pi is going to eat a man, tonight.

 

And we all know which one she is thinking about.

 

She catches the object of her interest sitting next to her daughter.  _Well_. How dare he walks around her home, befriending his dear Mori after he insulted her own mother! That man needs to be taught some rules about politeness and cordiality. And also, how to beg for her attention _one more time_.

 

The first notes of _Partition_ fill out the place, red spots set on her skin as she begins to dance with all the sensuality she is best known for.

 

She takes a chair left at the corner of the scene, drags it with no effort, obscenely slow in the center of the stage and rides it while looking straight into Newt’s hungry eyes.

 

 _You wanna play, boy?_ _How good would you be for me, boy?_

 

Newt is already on his feet, joining the other customers and trying to pass her generous handful of bills.

 

She doesn't take it, making them all wait for her. She throws her head out, exposing her tits, some of her belly and the long, luxurious arc of her neck.

 

Everybody is in love with Cherry Pi.

 

But when she looks at this hell of a man, Newt is simply smiling at her with complete attention.

 

She finally takes his money, pushing the end of her cane on the center of his chest. She feels the thick fabric of a binder under his white shirt.

 

The song continues to play, and she spins on herself, bending to show her ass and rips off her skirt — handmade for this act, thank _God_ — leaving her only dressed in red lacy lingerie and her thighs high leather boots.

 

The crowd erupts in euphoria. She dances back to her chair, giving nasty, heated looks to whoever dares search for her eyes.

 

Newt watches her with a sunshine smile. It makes Cherry feels seen, like never before. The man met Hermann before Cherry, fought with him, and still wanted his full attention.

 

Oh dear Lord, Cherry is feeling very hot, very much more than usual.

 

She finishes her performance on a soft death drop, cautious not to fall on her bad hip.

 

She lays for some time on the floor, waiting for the applause to calm down. She then manages to stand up very carefully, sure to show all of her body and the sumptuous silky fabric hugging it. Not a move from Cherry isn’t carefully crafted to meet the perfect result; she is a gift for the eyes, and a sore for the heart. She pours her soul in her art, ready to die the very next day.

 

Sweet, nude lights run on her legs with the beginning of her second song; it is by far her favorite, in terms of form and story. _Like a Virgin_ has always left both Hermann and Cherry soft-hearted. Its false candeur and the playfulness of its lyrics make her wants to dance her spirit out until the end of the night.

 

Plus, everyone loves a little bit of nostalgia. Cherry now appears less sexy and more exposed: she is, after all, very unclothed at the moment, but it is also the part when she allows herself to show a more tender side of her act.

 

She feels like a woman.

 

Losing herself in the goodness running through her ears and blood, she throws one of her long glove to her crowd of joyful fans — shit, she will have to buy another set _again_ — and decides to throw the second one as a generous gesture. The tips that follow will, for sure, compensate for her loss.

 

She sings the chorus, smiling at each face welcoming her happiness, and she feels loved and alive — and Newt’s eyes on her are even more loving and admiring her. Would she feel like a virgin with him? How would he touch her? How would he — kiss Hermann?

 

The songs hits its last notes when she takes a new sit at the chair in the center of the stage. People cheers louder, maybe as breathless as her, and she thanks them wordlessly while drinking some water. Her skin in the bright lights feel hotter than under the hard summer sun: that night became special when Hermann met Newton, but he had not dare hoped it would be that much electrifying to perform under his intense, knowing gaze.

 

Maybe they had yelled at each other because they are both impossible idiots who didn’t know how to enter each other’s life differently.

 

God, Cherry really feel _all shiny and new_ in this instant.

 

“Who would like to volunteer as my special guest, tonight?” She screams at her audience, pointing her cane at them but not designiting anyone yet. Those who know her already also know what she is up to and want in with no hesitation.

 

Even a fool like Newt should be aware.

 

And of course he is volunteering as well.

 

Well.

 

It would be impolite of her to decline a gentleman’s attempt to redeem himself in her eyes.

 

At everybody else’s disappointment, she nods at Newt to come join her. He timidly walks the stairs to the scene, which seems odd of him to play coy now. When he is at her level, so small and intimated, she speaks right into his ear: “If you’re ever uncomfortable, simply say “out”.”

 

The man doesn’t answer, looking at her as if she was made of stars and pure energy. Is he really that impressed by her? _Damn_ , Cherry sure did not lose any of her effect.

 

“Sit, boy.”

 

They are the same age. He sits nonetheless. This final song is her own cherry on the top of the cake — and the desert being Newt, tonight.

 

The soundtrack begins playing, at the second when Cherry catches Mako’s eyes in the crowd. They exchange a silent amused grin; yes, she is playing a little game of mouse and cat with Newt. She means him no harm, fortunately. Actually, she is even hoping he will stay after the show and offer her a drink.

 

(Or maybe she will offer him one, as he already gave her too many tips for him to have any cash left.)

 

 _Down in Mexico_ has the ability to give a whole bar the dirtiest, most exquisite ambiance in barely few seconds. People are wolf-whistling, bills constantly raining at Cherry’s feet; the light goes back to a rich red, enveloping each body in the room in an embrace of colored lust.

 

Newt is looking at her sheepingly. He has lost his smile, but he doesn’t look unpleased, mostly dumbfounded.

 

Cherry puts her cane right in the middle of his parted legs, making room for her to start dancing at his front.

 

She throws her ass under his nose, picking an invisible dust off the floor; they can barely hear the song over everybody’s enthusiastic yelling. But maybe it doesn’t matter; all things considered, maybe that public setting is nothing but an excuse for her to fully uncover herself to Newt.

 

He still doesn’t move and that fact alone pleases her; she doesn’t want to be touched, even by accident. _He is being really good_ , she thinks, _and I should reward him for his new good behavior_.

 

The singer begins his torrid litany about a mystery woman dancing over him; Cherry takes her cue to circle around Newt, puts her hands over his shoulders and hit the floor between his legs one more time with her cane, but closer to his crotch, more… _accurately closer_.

 

She can hear him dryly swallow, barely breathing, still as can be.

 

But a smile is back on his round face. She caught the mouse in her hands, and the trap is only made of honey and sweets threats. What a delightful night to remember…

 

The song ends with a thunder of applause. Cherry thanks her crowd, bending way too prettily as the sex symbol that she is, and casually picking her tips off the ground and stuffing them in her panties.

 

She makes her way back to Newt, undergarments stuffed with money bills and accomplishment. She plants a kiss on his right cheek, leaving a red mark there, both a proof of her affection and her possessiveness.

 

“Meet me in the work room in ten minutes, if you would like? Bring a bottle with you, to celebrate.”

 

Walking backstage head high, she is in fact so little confident in his answer that she doesn’t dare wait for it — assuming his absence will be his refusal.

 

(But would she had took a final look at him… She would have saw a beautiful picture of adoration coloring Newt’s smile and eyes.)

 

_*********_

 

 _“On a le pouvoir de s’aimer, okay?”_ is a lyric resonating in each of his defining cells. Newt knows jack shit about French but that one song kind of makes him believe he could learn the language, just for fun. (In reality, he is a terrible linguist, and it often serves him as a stupid pick-up line.)

 

He is stamping his feet before Cherry’s work room door. He obviously _knows_ he was invited and _wanted_ here, but he also knows he is actually a really bad flirter and he doesn’t want to lose Hermann because of his lack of _actual_ charm.

 

Ah, he hates this situation! He knows he should feel lucky, excited, ready to offer his everything at the risk of looking desperate but — something is blocking him.

 

Maybe it is simply the door. Maybe — maybe he is just such a loser.

 

Drown in the darkness of the empty corridor, he cuddles the idea of fleeing and ruining everything, but being safe from any possible bigger disaster. He has everything to win in this situation but he is nervous as can be. It feels like ages since he felt this much attracted to someone, and that alone is terryfying.

 

The door opens in a bang, almost making him fall in reaction, Hermann right in his face, his head naked of Cherry’s wig, and looking  _very_ pissed.

 

“For Christ’s sake, won’t you simply come in? Your waiting is making me regret ever inviting you in.”

 

Understanding that his worries are shared by the other man, and that Hermann is still as infuriated as he was in the back alley, finalizes to win Newt over.

 

He reveals a bottle from being his back, hopefully a good foreign wine — if Tendo didn’t try to make a fool of himself instead of being a decent wingman.

 

“Sorry, I was... lost in thoughts.”

 

Hermann snorts, guiding him in by grabbing his elbow kindly, closing the door behind them.

 

“Thinking about what exactly?” Hermann asks, sounding unsure. Newt simply smiles harder.

 

How much Tendo will hate him if Newt were to also steal one of his drag queens?

 

“Thinking about you, _Doctor_ Gottlieb, and how incredible you are in,” he steps closer to him, leaving a mirrored kiss on Hermann’s cheek, “and out of drag.”

  
The end of the night is nothing but vivid arguments and sweet embraces against the wall, the floor, _and_ a chair.


End file.
